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The Hacker

Uploaded by Admin on Mar 18, 2001

It was a lonely Saturday night. The wind was howling through the branches of the old oak tree outside my window. The branches swayed back and forth, creating faint tapping and screeching sounds on the glass. And so, I sat… It was a night like any other; my music playing in the background and the room was illuminated only by the changing shades of green from my lava lamp. I waited. Suddenly, a came from the system unit of my computer, signalling that it was ready. I sat in my big leather chair, leant forward, and logged on. Immediately, the computer went through a series of programmes, checking the system was operating correctly, and so on. The status bar reached 100% and the computer was now ready for action.

I sat with the bright glare in my eyes. The once room, once light by a perpetually changing shade of green, was now light up with a brilliant sky blue.

“Good evening, Dave. Would you like me to log on to the Internet?” It was a synthesised voice coming from the computer. It was a voice interface I had made by piecing together things my girl friend had said. I had it on the computer to remind me of her, and to give me hope that one day I would see her again.

“Hmm…yeah, log me on.” I said. My voice was grotty and weak. Although I had a voice interface, I rarely spoke, even though I used my computer 24/7, I’d normally use the keyboard and mouse. Still, having a voice interface was pretty nifty, but I couldn’t help but think that one day, it may not recognise my voice….it was getting worse by the day. The modem clicked.

“Log on complete. Have a nice day.” It said. I almost broke down. I hadn’t heard this voice for some time….it brought back memories. I had forgotten what she sounded like…She? My god! I’d started to think that this machine was my girl friend. ‘The late nights must be getting to me.’ I thought

“Thanks.” I said. I could hardly stand it…it felt like there was a rock in my throat; you know the one I mean? When you’re upset and you feel like your going cry? Well, anyway, I cracked my knuckles, for no reason what so ever, knowing full well it could give me premature arthritis. , and started typing. When I looked...

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Uploaded by:   Admin

Date:   03/18/2001

Category:   Creative Writing

Length:   5 pages (1,171 words)

Views:   1762

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